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Skid-dy-mer-rink-a-doo-a-boomp,
Skid-dy-mer-rink-a-doo,
Caroline looked up at us and turned that frown into a smile and joined us in song. Only she changed the last line of the song for her.
Skid-dy-mer-rink-a-doo-a-boomp,
Skid-dy-mer-rink-a-doo, means you love me!
Caroline stopped abruptly and looked around at everyone staring at us. We were the only noise in the place, so we came in with a big finish. As we always did, we pointed to Caroline as we sang her favorite line.
Skid-dy-mer-rink-a-doo means I’ll be true.
When we stopped singing there was some laughter. Belle started the clapping in the back of the room with the caregivers joining in. Quickly the others in the room began to clap quite energetically.
Caroline stood and took a bow. Then came the Nash sisters hug. It felt like family again!
We talked for hours about home, childhood, the men in our lives, and Annie’s car. No one brought up anything negative. I could tell Caroline was working hard to stay focused. Annie decided we should go for a walk outside. Caroline looked over at Belle.
Belle jumped right in with her sweet voice. “That is a wonderful idea! Caroline, you can go with your sisters. I don’t need to go with you. Take them to the picnic tables under the big oak tree. They will like that.”
Caroline was humming our song as we approached the front porch steps down to the grass. Annie placed her arm in the crook of Caroline’s arm and I took Caroline’s other arm while Dianne linked with me. We took the steps down raising our knees high like we were in a marching band, humming all the way.
When we reached the picnic table, someone brought over tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches, pickles, and glasses of sweet tea.
While we were eating, Dianne broached the subject of Dix Hill with Caroline. She said, “Caroline, this is such a lovely place. Do you like it here?”
Caroline stared at her hands and responded slow and measured. “I guess. I don’t have a lot of choice, do I? The people are nice here. And Belle reminds me of Momma—except she is black. They give me jobs to do that keep me busy so I can push back the bad thoughts.”
She raised her eyes to us then pointed beyond the tree to a huge vegetable garden. Caroline’s voice became more rapid and excited. “You see that? I work over there every day. That looks like our garden at home. Only gigantic. You all taught me how to take care of a garden. Momma always said the weeding is the worst part but the most important. I am the fastest weed puller anyone has ever seen! And I know what to pull and what not to pull. Most girls don’t know the difference.”
I wanted to keep her talking and focused on the good things. “It is a fine garden, Caroline. We hear you liked your visit to the child nursery. Tell us about that.”
She began to sound like our little sister. She always was a talker, except when she was worried about something. “It is the cutest place you’ve ever seen! There are three rooms. One for babies, one for walking babies, and a bigger one for preschool children. All the rooms are painted with pretty colors and have curtains that blow softly through the open windows. Ethel, it reminds me of how you fixed up your room for baby Marie. The nursery has child sized furniture and plenty of toys. It is such a good place for children to be. Those children didn’t have much of a life until they came here. Even though their mom or dad has to be here because they are crazy, the children have a good place to stay during the day. Isn’t that marvelous?”
OCTOBER 1935
Dianne
Conversations While Waiting
Some of the best conversations happen while waiting at the hospital or spending time with people who need your companionship for long periods of time. In these circumstances topics do not end; they morph into the next topic, and you come back to topics time and time again to extend what else you remember. Shared memories expose unexpected perspectives and often new understanding. Dianne talks about what happened on those days in October 1935 when I spent time with her at Richardson Memorial Hospital.
I heard Ethel enter the ward where I was hospitalized like a bull busting out of the pen to chase a young heifer. She was huffing and puffing. She said, “Dianne, it took me so long time to find this hospital. I hate that I was not here to bring you in. How are you? What happened?”
I told her to settle down so I could tell her about it, then I explained about falling off the back porch at home and yelling loud enough a neighbor heard me. Dale, who lives next door, came running over. I had hurt my leg by falling against the bottom stone step, and I hit my head on something so blood was pouring out. That is what scared Dale. She got two other neighbors to pull a car into the yard and drag me into the car. They brought me here because Dale said it is the oldest hospital in the area. By oldest I am hoping she meant best.
Ethel calmed down a bit, put her pocketbook beside me on the bed, and pulled the curtains between me and the others in the room. Then she plopped down in the wooden chair beside my bed and said she didn’t understand why oldest made this place better than others. She lowered her voice and whispered, “There are nine other beds in here with you. They can’t have enough nurses to look after you and all those people. How are they treating you?”
For the next hour or so, I told Ethel the story of rushing out the backdoor because I thought I saw Joe standing outside. I see Joe sometimes in my dreams or just when I am being really quiet. I don’t think I am crazy. I just think he is reassuring me. He came again this morning. There he was, clear as day, standing in the backyard, leaning on his shovel. He held his hat in his hand and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm. He was looking right at me. I opened the screen door to see him more clearly. He tipped his head down a bit, smiled, and winked at me. Joe would do this before he would lean over and kiss me. I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of his lips on my cheek. It felt wonderful. So, I ran to him. That’s when I tripped and fell hard on the ground. I looked around to see if he was still there. I needed him to come help me get up. I didn’t see him so I began calling out. I called him real loud and that’s when Dale came running.
Ethel just shook her head.
I went on to tell her the doctor said he thinks my leg is broken. It’s wrapped up for now, and they are going to X-ray it this afternoon. If the leg is broken bad, they will have to do surgery to put it back together. I’m not sure what to think about that. At least my head is fine, just a cut they stitched up.
Just as I was finishing up my story, a nurse came to check on me. Ethel gave her the third degree about her training, how she could care for this many people at once, and then the all too common Nash family questions came. “Who are your people? Where did you grow up?”
I never understood those questions from our family because our relations were nothing to brag about.
